I know I've written a bit on how I felt about Ted's passing, and I'm sure you've read and seen many others. But I just I had one more thought I wanted to share.
The more I thought about it today, the more I realized something. He came damn close to passing a lot of other legislation, too. The Comprehensive Immigration Reform Act in 2006 (it passed with a filibuster-proof majority in 2006, but didn't pass the Republican-led House). The Matthew Shepherd Hate Crimes Act, on which he was the lead sponsor along with Gorden Smith, which has passed the House but failed to advance in the Senate (it's currently moving). The Employment Non-Discrimination Act, too, which should pass in the next year. And that's just this decade- I'm sure I'm missing others in the past, please leave others you know of in in the comments. It's like Jack Nicklaus, who came in or tied for second in seventeen different majors. It's remarkable, but it goes overlooked among all his wins.
The other thing I thought about, in part inspired by HRC President Joe Solmonese's tribute, is that he also helped to stop a lot of bad from happening. Most people think of Robert Bork, which was a huge victory. I'm also thinking of, as Joe pointed out, stopping Jesse Helms' efforts to effectively force HIV+ individuals to live like sex offenders, or from using taxpayer money to fund programs designed to stop the "spread" of homosexuality. I learned that in 1994, he took the lead on defeating a proposed amendment requiring written parental consent before unemancipated minors could receive condoms or other contraceptives through any program that receives federal funds. This helped stop the spread of HIV and other STDs among both gay and straight youth.
Because so much of EMK's legacy focuses on his gigantic legislative achievements, we forget that he led the efforts to defend program after program from Reagan's cuts, and even dragged himself down to DC last summer to vote against Medicare cuts to doctor reimbursements, something that moved so many Republicans they switched their votes enough to make the vote veto-proof. These things, I think, are important to remember, too.
If you'll permit me to share one personal thing, it's that his passing makes me feel a bit the same as I did about LeRoi Moore, a founding member and longtime woodwind player for Dave Matthews Band (I'm a huge fan). As I wrote this morning, EMK inspires political activism in me, while LeRoi inspired music in my life. After LeRoi tragically died from complications relating to an ATV accident last summer, DMB opened nearly every show for the rest of that summer's tour with their epic song, Bartender. I think because it fits so well. It touches on the themes of death, remembrance, and legacy, and it moved me a great deal last summer. I listened to it on the way home tonight after I met up with another former EMK intern to talk about him, and found myself feeling the same way. It's a dark song with an uplifting, moving part right at the middle, and then a pennywhistle solo that makes you feel like there's hope even after all the mourning. The lyrics mean a lot in the context of his passing, too.
I posted a particularly great live version below, I hope you'll take a listen. Lyrics are posted here.
I want to tell a quick story about what inspired me to work in politics, and make a short case, too.
I used to intern on Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee on Ted Kennedy's (or as we called him, EMK) committee staff. He was then ranking minority member. I started in January 2005, as Bush was gearing up to gut Social Security through privatization. Most people think of interns as answering phones, running memos, getting coffee. I did a little of that too, but on the committee staff, you do very real, substantive work. One of my principal responsibilities was to do research showing how privatization would hurt Massachusetts seniors, or single mothers, low-income folks, other communities. I would then make these into Powerpoint charts, run them down to a Senate office that had them printed up into large posterboard charts that the Senator could take on the floor. Then I would bring them back to the office for his legislative assistant to take to the floor with him, and since he liked to have something to hold during his speeches, we would decide what to give him to take to the floor, which he would usually shake to punctuate his speeches- a magazine article, or a newspaper clipping, for example. If he didn't have anything, he would rip off his glasses and gesture with them passionately.
Then he would take to the floor and we'd see our efforts culminate as he quietly stood up, said the usual "Mr. President, I rise today..." and launch into a diatribe about economic fairness, about FDR's legacy, about the plain economics of how this was the l last leg of the three-legged stool on which Americans' retirement now shakily stood. He would get more and more passionate until you could actually see members of the Senate standing behind him, watching, on C-SPAN2. I remember going to other offices on errands during my tenure and their Senators would be on TV, but they'd be going about their work. I found that odd, because when Ted Kennedy came on TV, our office would literally stop. One of the Senator's disability staffers would come out of a meeting, the committee minority staff director in our office would stop his crazed day, we would all look up from our computers and watch. Then we would all go back to work, a little more inspired by his passion and idealism. I remember that most about him- his ability to inspire. He made us all feel our work was doing some good. My tenure there convinced me I wanted to work in politics full-time.
The other thing I want to say is about what comes next.
I remember when a member of the House died- an Ohio Republican, I think- and Chris posted it and offered some thoughts about the replacement procedure and opportunities to pick it up. A lot of folks in the comments angrily accused Chris of being a heartless politico.
After we've all had a little space, I don't think we should hesitate to think about- in the coming weeks- what comes next for Sen. Kennedy's big shoes, and take action if we have to. Let me tell you why.
At the end of my tenure in the Senate, all the interns had a chance to sit down en masse with the Senator to chat and take photos. He asked if we had any questions, and I raised my hand and because I was writing a term paper on the 1993-94 health care fight, I asked him what went wrong and what should be done differently next time. He sat up straight and went on for a good 20 minutes about the policy issues in the bill, what the Clintons did wrong politically, what he did wrong, where our allies went missing. I noticed a number of my fellow interns start to get obviously bored with the wonky discussion (clearly most of them expected to talk about his two dogs and the Red Sox), but he just kept on going. This, clearly, was at the top of his wish list to do one day.
We now face a critical process in making sure that wish gets filled. I do not think Ted would want us to miss having his vote on a strong health care bill- or, for that manner, a number of other important issues coming up, including immigration. I think that's why he asked the Massachusetts legislators to change the succession law. And that law is a problem for getting health care done, as may be a fair number of people I have heard wish to take his seat with regard to other issues. So I don't think we should hesitate, if it becomes necessary, to put pressure on the Massachusetts legislature, or support the most progressive candidate we can find who is willing to run for Sen. Kennedy's seat. He was known as the liberal lion, and it I think it would be a disservice to his legacy to replace the great progressive icon with someone who will not continue that legacy.
Meanwhile, I will keep fighting the Senator's fight with all my heart, and continue to be inspired by his work.
